Truth and Consequences
by Jen Rock
Summary: AU for Critical Mass. What if Dr. Kavanagh hadn't fainted? Some spoilers for that episode.
1. Chapter 1

Truth...

Disclaimer: I own nothing. I'm just playing with the characters for my own entertainment.

Notes: AU for "Critical Mass." What if Kavanagh hadn't fainted? This idea has been nagging at me since I saw the episode. Dr. Weir was bothered by her decision but she got off easy since Kavanagh fainted. But how worse would it be if he hadn't done so? There is a lot of Kavanagh whumping in this but I do really like the guy. (He reminds me of myself in many ways.)I just wanted the episode to be darker. Also, since he's never given a name on the show, I decided he looked like a Jason so that's what I'm using. There are going to be three chapters total.

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Dr. Jason Kavanagh sat in the interrogation room, drumming his fingers on the table impatiently. Weir had departed a while ago but still he was forced to stay here and fume about his treatment. How dare she think he would plant a bomb? She didn't even know him. He wasn't a murderer. He may be arrogant but no more than McKay and everyone seemed to tolerate him just fine.

When the door opened, he fully expected it would be someone entering to tell him he was free to go. This was all a big misunderstanding after all. Instead, it was Sheppard's pet Neanderthal, Ronon Dex. He stood up nervously. He didn't know this man but there was a very obvious threat in the way he was advancing towards him, knife in hand.

Weir must have sent him to intimidate Kavanagh but it wasn't going to work. She was a pacifist and he knew she would never send someone to torture him. It would be a violation of her own principles. His only concern was that she wasn't here. If she HAD sent this man to torture him, she wouldn't have the stomach to watch and her absence made him slightly more nervous. Still, he couldn't believe anything violent was going to happen here.

"What do you want?" He was proud that he spoke clearly as Ronon circled around behind him and his voice didn't waver. He managed to resist the urge to turn to see what he was doing. This was just another intimidation technique. Well, he'd put up with bullies his whole life and he wasn't going to fall for it this time.

"You know what I want. The access codes. NOW." Kavanagh rolled his eyes.

"I don't have them. You're wasting your..." A hand seized the back of his head and slammed it down. He was too surprised to even struggle as he hit the table hard and slid down to the floor. His glasses slid off his face and he heard them smash as he spat blood from his split lip. This couldn't be happening. He couldn't be locked in a room with a madman who was going to beat him to a bloody pulp for answers he didn't possess.

Ronon hauled him to his feet. The big man stared at Kavanagh with no expression. The man may as well have been an insect for all that flat gaze betrayed. Kavanagh could taste blood and his vision was blurry from more than just the loss of his glasses.

"Tell me the codes." He shook his head and was rewarded with a punch in the gut that dropped him to his knees. Ronan grabbed his ponytail and forced his head back. The fear was obvious on the scientist's face as he stared wide-eyed at the big man. He couldn't hide it anymore. Kavanagh was wheezing for breath now but he had enough left to gasp as the knife cut a burning line across his arm. The blood began to soak into his sleeve. "I can keep this up for as long as necessary. The codes."

"Please. I...don't have them. This is wrong. You can't..." Whatever else he might have said was lost in a scream as Ronan casually reached down and snapped the scientist's left wrist.

Sheppard ran down the corridor as fast as he could. He had to stop Ronon before it was too late. The two soldiers guarding the door to the interrogation room gave him startled salutes as he raced past them but he never even saw them. He burst through the door and then skidded to a stunned halt at the sight before him.

Ronon was holding Dr. Kavanagh up by the front of his shirt. The scientist was splattered with his own blood and hung limply from Ronan's tight grip. He was breathing in jagged gasps and he was clearly going to be spending a good amount of time in the infirmary. But at least he was alive and none of the injuries looked permanent.

"Let him go, Ronon. He's not the saboteur. It's Caldwell." Stunned surprise played across the big man's face. He looked at his victim and then lowered Kavanagh to the ground. The injured man curled into the fetal position, shivering and moaning in pain as he cradled his wounded arm to his body. Sheppard shuddered inwardly. This was going to be a bad situation later but right now they had Caldwell to deal with. He summoned the guards and had them get the medics for Kavanagh. Repercussions would have to wait.


	2. Chapter 2

Consequences.

Disclaimer: I own nothing although I would dearly love to.

Notes: I'm not going to try to do Beckett's accent phonetically so you'll just have to imagine him speaking the words in his accent. Also, I'm not a doctor so if I get any medical situations/terminology wrong, I'm sorry. Thank you to everyone who reviewed. (Orka, there's a group for Kav fans? Stares. Must...check...out.)

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Dr. Weir sat at her desk with her head in her hands. This had to be the worst day of her life. She'd violated everything she'd ever believed in by ordering violence against an innocent man and causing his unnecessary suffering. Where had she gone wrong? It had all seemed so clear at the time. Kavanagh HAD to be the saboteur. It had all made sense to her then.

There was a knock at the door and she wiped away the tears before Colonel Sheppard entered. But he wasn't stupid and she knew he could read the despair on her face.

"Hermoid thinks he can beam the Goa'uld out of Caldwell's head without causing any brain damage." The Colonel had a habit of jumping right into things without any preambles. It was something she was grateful for right now as she nodded stiffly.

"That's good. How's Dr. Kavanagh?"

"I don't know. I haven't had time to check up on him but you can't let this get to you. Every piece of evidence we had pointed to Kavanagh. I would have made the same choice."

"But I'm not you." The bitterness sharpened her voice despite her efforts to remain calm. "I've always been against violence and the use of force. He was right. I do make decisions based on emotions."

"Kavanagh said that? Listen, even if it were true, which it's not, emotions can be a powerful force. Do you think Rodney could get as much done if he weren't in hysterics every mission? Acting on your emotions is nothing to be ashamed of. You were trying to do everything in your power to protect the people here. No one is going to blame you for your decision."

She blamed herself. Wasn't that enough? And what would Stargate Command's reaction be? Would they decide she had made a mistake and remove her as head of the expedition? She almost wished they would take the decision out of her hands but deep down she knew they would probably agree with her.

"That doesn't make me feel any better. Ronon could have killed him. I let my dislike for Dr. Kavanagh color my judgment. The truth is...I never really considered anyone else as a suspect."

"Because all the evidence fit him. The weird departure and return, the encrypted transmissions, and his dislike of you, all made him look like the perfect suspect. And who would have ever thought it was Caldwell? Hell, I still have trouble believing it was him. I've worked with the man for months and I never saw any evidence of creepy snake-things controlling him. Besides Ronon wouldn't have killed him. He couldn't get any information out of him if he were dead."

She knew that was just John's idea of a joke, trying to defuse the emotional tension in the room but somehow it made her feel worse. Ronon had systematically tortured Dr. Kavanagh on her orders. Nothing was ever going to lessen her guilt over this.

She'd taken an instant disliking to the man as soon as she met him. There was just something so irritating to her about his every expression and mannerisms that she had let it color every interaction she'd had with him. But she was a diplomat, she should be able to deal with unpleasant people. She'd done it before so why couldn't she handle this one individual? Why did every action she take concerning him seem to be the wrong one?

There was a knock at the door and a moment later they were joined by Dr. Beckett. Weir steeled herself for what he might tell her.

"I have Colonel Caldwell sedated. Hermoid says it will take several hours to go through all the calculations necessary to remove the Goa'uld safely."

"All right. And what about Dr. Kavanagh?"

"The lad's been beaten quite badly. He's got a concussion, broken wrist, and numerous cuts and bruises including a black eye. Luckily there doesn't seem to be any cranial bleeding or damage to his eye. He'll recover but what I don't understand is how did this happen? The soldiers who brought him in claimed they don't know anything so if someone could enlighten me, I'd appreciate it." Carson sounded indignant at what had been done to the scientist and Weir shuddered inwardly at having to tell him it was all her fault.

"Easy doc, you said yourself he'll be okay. No permanent damage." Sheppard was trying to protect Elizabeth but she had to take responsibility for her own actions.

"That's enough. I'll explain." She took a deep breath and went into a quick but detailed description of the events that led up to Kavanagh's beating. She kept her outward demeanor calm but inside, her heart quelled as the look on Carson's face went from puzzled to startled to horrified and then finally sorrowful. When she finished, he looked very tired and closed his eyes briefly, pinching the bridge of his nose as though to ward off a headache.

"I suppose I can understand why you gave the order, Dr. Weir. It sounds like a difficult situation. But I wish you could have found some other way." Elizabeth couldn't agree with him more. After both men had left, she wanted to bury her face in her hands again but she couldn't allow herself to be broken down by this. She took a moment to compose herself. Then she compiled a report on the whole incident to be sent to Stargate Command. It would be up to them now to decide what should be done about Kavanagh and herself.

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Dr. Jason Kavanagh woke up slowly with his whole body aching. He didn't know where he was as he stared fuzzily at the white ceiling tiles above him through his one good eye. Turning his head, he tried to figure out what was going on but the movement brought a fresh wave of pain and he groaned despite himself. A shadow loomed over him and he cringed away instinctively, anticipating another blow that never fell.

"Easy, lad. Try not to move." Dr. Beckett's Scottish accent cut through his daze and firm hands pinned him to the bed, preventing any further movement. That must mean he was on Atlantis and in the infirmary. He'd thought for sure Ronon was going to kill him. But judging from the way his body felt, he hadn't got off easy. He remembered the assault but only in bits and pieces so he couldn't be sure how much damage the Satedan had done to him.

"How bad is it?" His voice came out harshly and his throat felt dry and scratchy. Beckett frowned and moved out of his range of vision. He returned a moment later with a glass of water and a straw. Kavanagh took a few sips and his throat felt better.

"You've got a concussion among other things. There doesn't seem to be any cranial bleeding but you'll likely be feeling queasy and dizzy. Do you feel like you're going to vomit?" He shook his head although he did feel a bit nauseous and Beckett went on. "You've got a black eye but there aren't any orbital fractures or damage to the eye itself. Once the swelling goes down, you should be able to see just fine. Your left wrist is broken but it was a clean break so I've set it and it'll heal just fine."

Beckett produced a penlight from his pocket and shone it in Kavanagh's good eye. He winced and tried to turn away but Carson was insistent. "Your pupil looks normal considering your condition. Can you follow my finger with that eye?" It made him dizzy but he did it and then had to tolerate Carson's exam as his pulse, heart rate, and general condition were checked. Finally, Dr. Beckett seemed satisfied. "I've given you something for the pain but it would be best if you try to stay awake for a little while. I'll have the nurse check on you every fifteen minutes. Would you like to sit up a bit?"

He wanted to say that he didn't need the nurse but it was easier just to agree. The bed was adjusted so he was sitting up although his upper body was still slanted backwards. Carson gave him a pat on the arm and a reassuring smile and went off to check on other patients.

Kavanagh lay back in the bed, trying to ignore the nagging queasiness in his stomach and the dull ache of his wounds. There were curtains on either side of the bed but straight ahead he could see the infirmary. It was easier to stare up at the ceiling as the motion of the medical staff moving past made his head ache. Beckett had chatted on as he'd done the exam. He'd told the scientist that it was Caldwell, under the influence of a Goa'uld, who had planted the bomb but that they'd managed to diffuse it in time.

Weir had sent Ronon to torture him for nothing. The idea that she'd sent Ronon at all was shocking. He'd thought her too weak to seriously consider any such action. He was trying to remain calm about it but more and more as he turned the situation over in his head, the anger was coiling up inside him like a living thing. The nausea seemed to increase as he remembered being on his knees, begging Ronon to stop. He looked down, seeing the damage that had been afflicted on him.

Bruises covered his chest and arms. The cut on his arm had been stitched closed and cleaned but it still stung. He didn't remember the blow to his face that had closed his right eye. That must have come after his wrist had been broken.

He stared down at his left wrist which was immobilized and bandaged. The sound of his bones breaking played over and over in his head and suddenly he couldn't fight it anymore. Grabbing a pan Beckett had left next to his bed, he emptied the contents of his stomach, retching and gasping until there was nothing left in him. Only the anger and a horrible feeling of loss.


	3. Chapter 3

The Aftermath

Disclaimer: If I did own Stargate: Atlantis, Dr. Kavanagh would be on more and portrayed more three-dimensionally and he'd have an official first name too. Since that hasn't happened, you can be sure I don't own the show. I also don't own any of the characters from Stargate: SG-1 either.

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"After careful review of the situation, we believe you made the best choice possible according to all the known information at the time. Your actions will be placed on your permanent record but there will be no disciplanary actions taken by Stargate Command."

Dr. Weir let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding as General Hammond finished speaking. He must have seen the look on her face through the screen because his stern demeanor softened a bit.

"Elizabeth, did you think we'd ask you to step down over this? Every leader has to make difficult choices at times and being so far removed from Earth as you are, a certain leeway is to be expected. What happened to Dr. Kavanagh is unfortunate but you have to put it behind you."

"Thank you General, but it's not that easy. I'm still responsible for what happened to Kavanagh."

"Do you want to step down? Is that it?" Hammond looked concerned. He could see the strain still on her face from the events of three days ago. She shook her head and attempted a smile.

"I had fleeting thoughts of doing so that day but I have to face my actions. Resigning would be the equivalent of running away from my problems and I'm not going to do that."

"I'm glad to hear that but there is one other thing. Dr. Kavanagh is well within his rights to file charges against you and if he does, he might have a case. Do you think he'd try something like that?"

"I...don't know. It would be typical of him."

"Then maybe you should wait to find out what he'll do before you relax completely. I'll back you up if that happens but any further action is up to Dr. Kavanagh."

After the call was done, Dr. Weir sat in her office considering her options. Kavanagh was still in the infirmary. She might not know for days what action he planned to take against her. Until then she would just have to carry on with her regular duties. There was nothing more to be done.

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"Can I get out of here, yet?" Dr. Kavanagh clenched his jaw and tried not to react as Dr. Beckett examined the area around his right eye. In the four days he'd been here, the swelling had gone down enough for him to see out of both eyes again although the area was still aching and discolored. The nausea and dizziness had mostly gone away although he still had a dull, throbbing ache at the back of his skull. Beckett had assured him it was normal after a concussion and might persist for days or even weeks.

"I want to wait one more day just to be sure there's no aftereffects from the concussion. Do you think you can tolerate another day, here lad?" He bit down the impulse to tell Beckett that it was both condescending and unprofessional to refer to a grown man as 'lad' and instead nodded curtly.

His irritation sprang largely from boredom. The first couple of days, he'd mainly slept but he was staying awake for longer periods of time now and yet he couldn't do anything while he was awake. Reading was difficult with his right eye still a little blurry. Plus his glasses had been broken in the attack. He had another pair in his bag on the _Daedalus_ but everyone claimed to be too busy to retrieve them for him.

He'd tried to get some work done on a laptop Beckett had supplied but trying to focus on the screen had made him queasy again and he'd had to stop. He wasn't used to doing nothing for days on end and with nothing to keep his mind busy. It was becoming increasingly difficult to tolerate his stay here.

His irateness had only been heightened by the events of this morning. The sound of loud voices had woken Kavanagh from a sleep punctuated by dreams of being chased through Atlantis by large, shadowy figures. For a moment he'd been caught in the feeling that he was still dreaming only to have Dr. McKay's familiar voice cut through the fog of waking.

"Well Colonel, you'll be happy to know that Hermiod and I have confirmed that the Gou'ald is completely gone from your brain. And without the slightest damage to your brain cells. A job well done, if I do say so myself."

"I thought Hermiod did all the calculations." Caldwell sounded more amused at McKay's bluster than Kavanagh would have been under the circumstances.

"Well...it was a joint effort between the two of us. Perhaps he did a bit more since it is his people's technology but we both went over the calculations together." It sounded to the listening scientist as though McKay had simply been used as a proofreader for the Asgardian rather than a partner but Caldwell chose to humor him.

"Thank you for the help, doctor. I'm feeling fine and I'm just glad to be back to normal." Kavanagh sneered at the two men standing perhaps five feet away beyond the curtains surrounding his bed. No one bothered to ask if HE was okay and he was a victim just as much as Caldwell. Then his whole body went rigid as he heard HER voice.

"I'm glad to see you up and well, Colonel Caldwell. Dr. Beckett tells me you've been given a clean bill of health." Weir sounded very calm and Kavanagh was feeling anything but. His gaze was fastened on the faint silhouette of Dr. Weir that he could see through the cloth.

"Yes, as soon as Stargate Command confirms it, I'll be back aboard the _Daedalus_." They had begun to move away at that point and the conversation got fainter but Kavangh wasn't listening as he realized Weir was still standing there. From the looks of things, she was staring in his direction. Would she dare to approach? What would he say to her? The very thought of her pitying him or worse, feeling no remorse, made the anger rise up until it felt as though he might choke on it. But after a moment, she turned and followed the two men out.

"There's one more thing I'd like you to do for me before I discharge you. I'd like you to talk to Dr. Heightmeyer. Do you think that'll be all right?"

Kavanagh, lost in seething about Weir, was caught off guard. All he could do was stare at Beckett, not even hiding his annoyance this time. Talking to a shrink wasn't going to help him in any way. It was a complete waste of time. Always had been.

"Why? You should send her to talk to Weir. Because clearly, sending that barbarian to torture me after all her talk of peace and negotiation, is the act of an unstable mind. I'm fine."

"I really must insist." Beckett's voice had taken on a steelier tone and he was obviously trying to ignore the remark about Elizabeth. "You can't be discharged until I clear you and I think you need to talk about what happened. Now are you going to agree or are you going to stay here for a couple more days?"

Kavanagh took a deep breath, fighting the anger within him. It didn't matter that Beckett probably meant well. All that mattered was that someone else was trying to force him into talking about things that didn't exist. He didn't have a problem. But he clearly had no choice so he matched the doctor's stare and simply nodded, not trusting himself to speak civilly.

Two hours later, he met with Dr. Heightmeyer. The pretty doctor smiled at him as she came to sit down next to him. Beckett had had him moved to a small, private room for this little chat. Kavanagh sat stone-faced, unwilling to say or do anything more than was necessary to get out of the infirmary.

"How are you feeling today, Dr. Kavanagh?"

"Physically or mentally? Because the answer to both would be fine." Her eyes searched his face as though trying to discern the truth of his statement. He hated shrinks, always had. When he'd acted out in school, unable to cope with both the bullying and the stifling boredom that came with being so much smarter than the rest of the children, the school had sent him to a counselor. He'd always wondered why the bullies didn't have to go, only their victims.

The older woman had been nice enough but completely ineffectual in her advice. "Ignore them." "Hold your head up high." "If you have confidence, they'll leave you alone." "Try harder to make friends." Useless drivel, all of it. Heightmeyer's words would probably be no better.

"I know this must be difficult for you to deal with. It's normal to feel anger or even to think about revenge. You probably feel as though the attack was personal."

"It IS personal." He hadn't meant to respond but he found her attempt at sympathy to be annoying. What the hell did she know about how he felt? "Dr. Weir hates me. I don't know why but she's treated me with nothing but contempt every time we've interacted."

"Why do you think she hates you? Has she ever said so?" He stared at her, debating whether to answer but finally decided, why not? No one else would listen to his complaints and doctor/patient confidentiality would prevent her from telling Weir what he said.

"No but it's clear from the way she treats me. Do you know I was actually looking forward to coming to Atlantis? Not just because I disliked the military control of the SG1 project but because this place represented a fascinating new frontier of science. And there are so many amazing things going on here but Weir doesn't seem to care about any of it unless McKay's involved. Everything I've tried to do has been ignored or undermined by Weir."

He could see the expression Heightmeyer couldn't quite manage to suppress. She probably thought he had a persecution complex but he wasn't stupid. He could tell that Weir had it in for him.

"You're aware of the incident with the jumper being stuck in the gate last year?" The doctor nodded so he went on. "That was the first time that I really had any interaction with Dr. Weir in a crisis situation. There was the interview process that got me on the team but she wasn't the only one doing the interview and it was a very formal process. In a crisis, you have to keep a level head but Weir let her emotions take over and it clouded her judgment."

"What happened?" Heightmeyer was leaning forward, listening carefully to everything he said. He talked about the jumper incident and went on to describe situation after situation where he felt Weir had treated him differently than the other scientists ending with the recent torture.

"If it was anyone else under suspicion, would she have sent Ronon to torture them? Absolutely not. If Zelenka, Simpson, Parrish, or God forbid, McKay had been accused she never would have even considered that course of action no matter how desperate she was. But when it comes to me she had no problem having me physically assaulted. She probably doesn't even have any remorse for it."

"That's not true. She feels very badly about the whole situation." Heightmeyer sat up straight now looking faintly defensive. He felt the anger creeping into his head again. Heightmeyer was on Weir's side. He should have known.

"Oh, have you talked to her about it? Doesn't that violate confidentiality for you to tell me that?"

"We didn't talk about it at all but I can tell that she's been troubled lately. Everyone can."

"Oh yes, she must feel so guilty for being a hypocrite. I'm sure she can hardly sleep at night knowing what she did to me." It was the anger that made him answer so sarcastically. He'd been trying to talk rationally about this. He certainly wasn't going to let the anger rule him. But the idea that everyone was so worried about Weir's fragile emotional state while he lay in the infirmary, injured and dosed with painkillers, was too much to bear.

"Do you want her to feel guilty? Do you want her to suffer for what she did? Would it make you feel better?"

"Only if she learned something from it and I doubt that will happen. She's too ruled by her emotions to ever qualify as an experienced leader."

"Is it because she's a woman?"

"What? No, I've got nothing against women as leaders. There are plenty of men who wouldn't make good leaders either. Her problem is that she plays favorites and it affects her judgment. She may pretend that she treats everyone equally but it's obvious that certain people get away with things the rest of us never would. And she violates protocol, both military and scientific, whenever it suits her."

It was clear that Heightmeyer didn't believe him and the conversation went downhill after that until it ended with Kavanagh more irritated and Heightmeyer offering polite, meaningless words about forgiveness and trying to act civilly. It was like everyone here was infected with some disease where they couldn't see how ineffective a leader Dr. Weir truly was.

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"Well, what do you think? Should I discharge him?" Carson looked at Heightmeyer with a slightly pleading expression. He was being civil to Kavanagh and he did feel sorry for the man but his patience was wearing thin. The scientist's bitter attitude was very hard to take even for someone used to dealing with McKay's histrionics. He really wanted to be able to discharge his patient with full confidence that the ponytailed scientist would be okay. Heightmeyer seemed to be considering her reply.

"I think he's carrying a lot of anger around and some of it may be justified. But I don't get the impression that he's a danger to himself or anyone else. I'd like to keep an eye on him but I don't see any reason why you can't discharge him." Carson sighed in relief.

"Thank you lass." He went off to tell Kavanagh the good news while Heightmeyer stood at the door of the infirmary, hoping she was right.

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Okay, I know I said in the first part that this was only going to be three chapters but my Muse is running away with me and it's going to have one or two more chapters. Originally it was going to be a quick, three-part story but I keep thinking of things to add like the whole section with Heightmeyer. So it's going to be a little longer than originally planned. Thanks for the continuing reviews.


	4. Chapter 4

Disclaimer: I own nothing. But I am making plenty of imaginary money off of it all, mwahahaha.

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The time had finally come. Kavanagh was free to go. As he waited for Carson to finish writing last minute instructions, he faced the open door and tried not to look too impatient. His stint on Atlantis would soon be finished. The _Daedalus_ was leaving in three days and he fully intended to be on it, this time never to return. Atlantis had become a place of lost opportunities for him and he would have to find new fields for his genius to flourish in.

"All right then. Take no more than two of the painkillers a day. If you pass out or vomit, I want you to tell me about it as soon possible. Same thing if your vision goes blurry or you have a persistent headache that lasts more than a few hours. That cast will have to stay on for another few weeks. I've already sent a message to the medical staff of the _Daedalus_ informing them of your needs. They'll take good care of you, lad." Carson delivered all of this in a sort of briskly relieved tone.

Kavanagh was sure the man was glad not to have a reminder of what his precious Dr. Weir had sunk to around. With Dr. Jason Kavanagh gone from his infirmary, he could keep on pretending his leader was a good person.

Kavanagh took the medication and the note with his good hand and stuck them in his pocket. It felt good to get out of here. Still, he supposed he owed the doctor something for at least trying to be sympathetic.

"Thank you, Dr. Beckett. I'll keep all of that in mind." He managed to sound sincere and Beckett nodded, smiled and then turned away leaving Kavanagh alone. The scientist was just about to leave when Dr. Heightmeyer came through the door. He kept his face impassive as she smiled pleasantly.

"I thought I'd accompany you to your quarters, Dr. Kavanagh."

"I don't need an escort." What was she up to? He was perfectly capable of making it to his room on his own.

"I'm here as a friend, doctor. I think you could use one right now to help you settle back in." He gave her an irritated look.

"Fine." Right now he was in no mood to argue. He just wanted to get to the privacy of his own room and finally relax in a way he couldn't in the busy infirmary.

The psychiatrist was at his side as he stepped into the corridor and headed for his temporary quarters. The people he passed seemed to stare openly at him whether in pity or smugness. Some looked away as if embarrassed. Heightmeyer was oddly quiet but he knew she was watching him, studying his reactions. He kept his face impassive, his gaze focused on the path before him but the anger darkened his blue eyes so that more and more people wouldn't meet his gaze as he swept past them.

He'd hoped to make it back to his room without encountering anyone of importance but that hope was dashed when he rounded a corner and nearly ran into Dr. Zelenka. The Czech scientist opened his mouth to scold the person who nearly ran him down and then abruptly closed it once he realized who it was. The two of them stared at each other for a moment. Radek's eyes took in the fading bruises and the bound wrist and there seemed to be a quick look of sorrow across his face.

"Dr. Heightmeyer." He nodded to the psychiatrist before meeting Kavanagh's gaze squarely. "Dr. Kavanagh, I am glad to see you out of the infirmary. I came by twice to talk to you but was always told you were sleeping."

"You came to see me? About what?" Kavanagh was taken aback as the anger slipped from his face to be replaced by surprise. The nurses had never told him that anyone had come to see him. And he had been sleeping a lot but there had been plenty of times he'd been awake. Did they hate him enough to lie or was it all a coincidence?

"I wanted to see how you are doing. And I wanted you to know that what Dr. Weir and the others did to you was absolutely wrong. I'm not the only one who feels that way. Several of the science staff are talking about filing a formal protest with Stargate Command."

"Really? I didn't think anyone cared." He couldn't hide the utter astonishment he was feeling. All this time, he'd been so utterly alone as everyone seemed to ignore the whole incident and now he found it wasn't so. He didn't know how to react.

"You have alienated a lot of people here but Dr. Weir crossed the line. It doesn't matter what she thinks of you. Her actions were a serious violation of common decency and if she did it once, she can do it again."

Part of his awe deflated as he decided the other scientists were more concerned for themselves than him. If Weir would order torture for Kavanagh, what would she do to the next lab geek who disagreed with her or argued with her in any way? Still it was nice to have support, even if it seemed halfhearted to him.

"Thanks. At least I'm not the only one who sees something wrong with Weir's actions." He let some of his usual arrogance bleed through into the words but Zelenka just nodded solemnly.

"We will support whatever action you choose to take. But we would like to know what you intend to do about the situation?"

For a moment, he felt a twinge of suspicion. Zelenka couldn't be pretending to be sympathetic in order to discover what Kavanagh was up to, could he? But then he dismissed his paranoia. There was utter sincerity in Dr. Zelenka's face so Kavanagh decided to tell him the truth.

"I haven't fully decided yet. I'm still considering my options." Zelenka considered that for a moment before nodding.

"Very well. If you wish to inform me when you do make your decision or have any questions, you know how to contact me." He took his leave of them and hurried off on whatever task he'd been intent on before running into Kavanagh. Heightmeyer was watching him more closely now and still he ignored her. They reached his room and he opened the door and paused at the threshold as she looked like she was planning on following him in.

"I'd really prefer to be alone for a while, Dr. Heightmeyer. I'm sure you have better things to do than follow me around."

"But you're not alone, Dr. Kavanagh. Zelenka proved that with his support. I'm here to help you get through this situation."

"Get through this? You make it sound like an accident. And what are you going to do to help me get over this? Suggest I have a therapy session with the people who had me assaulted where we can sit around and talk about our feelings? The people who wouldn't have cared if that thug had killed me? No, there's nothing you can offer me in the way of help. All you can offer is empty, meaningless words." He was practically shouting now, his fists clenched as he glared at her. Why couldn't she just back off and stop meddling?

To her credit, Heightmeyer stayed calm through his whole rant. There was no one in sight and Kavanagh was considerably larger than her but she met his angry gaze without flinching.

"For the record, I think that what Dr. Weir did was wrong. And I don't think group therapy would do any good. But you can't let yourself be ruled by hatred or you'll end up on a very ugly path. File charges against her if it will make you feel better but don't take your anger out on everyone else. It won't help the situation any."

He stared at her in frustration. Then he forced himself to take several deep breaths until he could speak without yelling although his tone was ice-cold.

"Are you done? Because I have work to catch up on."

"Just a few more things. I had your bag brought from the _Daedalus_ and put in your room. I've arranged it so your meals will be delivered here. I don't think you should have to deal with any of the Atlantis staff. It might lead to confrontations that would just be detrimental to your recovery. If you need anything, you know how to get in touch. Good day."

Heightmeyer turned and walked off before he could even think to reply. He simply stood there, mouth hanging open as he received his second shock of the day. She'd actually gone out of her way to make things easier for him and all he'd done was yell at her. He didn't trust people easily and pushing them away was a reflex adopted through years of trial but maybe he'd misjudged Heightmeyer. Or maybe she was trying to appease him until he was out of her jurisdiction. If he stayed isolated in his room, she wouldn't have to deal with him or the problems he might cause.

Turning, he went inside and locked the door behind him. The spare room he was in was smaller than the one he'd lived in his first year on Atlantis but he wouldn't be here long. His bag on the bed was the only original item in the room. It was like living in a hotel but he only had to endure three days and then he wouldn't look back.

Sitting on the bed, he retrieved his laptop and glasses from the bag and turned it on. The familiar ding told him he had mail. To Kavanagh's surprise, he had quite a few messages. One was from Dr. Zelenka reiterating his support and four of the others were from other Atlantian scientists offering support. An even bigger surprise was that one of the messages was from Dr. Simpson who he thought hated him. All the two of them ever did was argue but here she was stating briefly that she hoped he was feeling better and that she intended to sign the proposed protest to Stargate Command.

There was a message from Heightmeyer as well, sent before she'd shown up at the infirmary. He ignored that one in favor of the last. General Hammond of Stargate Command had sent him a message. His mouth was suddenly dry as he clicked on it. Had Stargate Command come to their senses about Weir? Would they actually side with him? His hopes were dashed as he actually read the message.

To: Dr. Jason Kavanagh,

Stargate Command has received word of the unfortunate situation that occurred five days ago. We would like to tender an apology for the injuries you suffered. However, Atlantis is in a state of combat readiness due to the continued threat of the Wraith. Consequently, Dr. Elizabeth Weir, as head of the Atlantis Expedition, has the authority to make whatever decisions she feels is necessary to protect Atlantis and her people.

Stargate Command has placed an official reprimand in Dr. Weir's files. We are looking into ways to prevent any future occurrences of this sort. We ask for your understanding in this matter. Any questions you may have should be sent through the proper channels...

He couldn't read the last few lines and in his rage, he almost threw the laptop across the room. Instead, he got to his feet and paced around the room feeling trapped and hopeless. It didn't matter that Zelenka, Simpson, and the others were willing to file a protest. Stargate Command would make polite words of regret for his torture and then sweep it all under the rug. Weir and the others would get away with it.

All his life he'd had to hold people at arms length. Trust should be earned not given freely. It was a lesson he'd learned at an early age and it had always served him well until he'd come here. No one had cared about his attitude as long as he'd gotten his job done at SG-1. The difference here was Weir's personal vendetta against him.

Even worse for him was that he'd always prided himself on his independence. He didn't need or want other people's approval. Science was about finding the truth in all things. So in science, as in life, he'd learned to ignore the criticism of people who couldn't possibly understand what he was doing or why.

But now, his confidence had been shaken. Weir and the others had treated him like a nuisance at best, a villain at worst. In his weaker moments since the attack, part of him had wondered if maybe it was his fault. Could he have been more diplomatic in delivering his opinions? Would it have changed things if he had gone along with Weir and her cronies?

No, he knew it wouldn't. He'd been trying as hard as any of the others to figure out how to save the trapped puddlejumper. All his caution had earned him was an accusation of cowardice which eventually led to his torture and these feelings of helpless rage.

Even physically he was struggling. With his arm bound, he'd had to rely on the nurses to help him dress, shave, even tie back his hair. Everything seemed designed to undermine his sense of pride. He had to reclaim his own sense of self-worth. He didn't know what to do but he couldn't let them win. He couldn't let them get away with this.

He picked some Atlantian vase off the side table and threw it against the wall, letting out a scream of rage that likely would have frightened anyone near enough to hear it. It was very cathartic but still didn't help. Leaning his head against the wall, he fought the tears that threatened to overwhelm him.

Finally, he calmed down enough to straighten up. Wiping away the few tears that had escaped and still shaking in anger, he sat back down at his laptop and typed off message after message with his one good hand to everyone he could think of. He wasn't going to go down without a fight.

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Okay, there's still quite a bit left to what I want to do so I don't know if there's going to be one or two more chapters. If I do write six chapters, it will make the story twice as long as I expected when I began writing it. Darn plotbunnies multiplied like a virus.

I've given little hints of Kav's background and I'm not going to write a whole back story but he will reveal more later on. I just think his bitterness probably stems from unhappiness in his past rather than him just being a jerk as some think so I work references to that into the story.


	5. Chapter 5

Disclaimer: Ownership of Stargate: Atlantis and all associated characters belongs to...someone else not me.

Sorry this chapter took so long. I couldn't get the words right. I kept rewriting and rewriting certain parts. I finally had to beat my Muse into submission to get this done. I give Kavanagh something of a background story in this.

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Dr. Jason Kavanagh sat in his small room, staring at the screen of his laptop as though willing it to change. One day earlier, he'd sent out half-a-dozen e-mails to various members of Atlantis and Stargate Command. The Atlantians had all responded within hours but the answer from Stargate Command was taking a bit longer.

That didn't bother him. It was to be expected after all. When he'd sent the message it had been added to the outgoing messages sent to Earth everyday through the Gate. He'd expected it would take a day or even two before he'd gotten a reply back so he wasn't surprised to see that there was none yet. Still, it would have been easier.

The Daedalus was leaving tomorrow and he intended to be on it, reply or no reply. He could pursue his complaints from Stargate Command just as well as he could here. Better even since then he wouldn't be trapped in this small room afraid of running into Ronon, McKay, Sheppard or Weir.

No, afraid wasn't the right word. He wasn't afraid of any of them. Even Ronon who'd taken him unaware with his attack but probably wouldn't go after him unprovoked. It was more that he was afraid of what he might he do or say if he ran into one of them. He was trying to get Stargate Command to act based on his logic and the wrong that had been done to him. Verbally or even physically attacking one of the figures involved would make him look like a bully or an unstable psychopath. The anger was still there inside of him but dealing with his situation in as logical a manner as possible was one of the things helping him deal with it.

Another was Heightmeyer. He'd apologized in his e-mail and asked if he could talk to her. She'd agreed and should be here any minute. And this time, he wanted to tell her everything or at least close to everything about why he was the way he was. At least, someone would understand.

Dr. Zelenka had already begun collecting signatures for his official protest which would be sent to Stargate Command as well as Dr. Weir herself. So far, he had fourteen signatures but hoped to have quite a few more by the end of the day. He hadn't told McKay about the petition. The head scientist would just dismiss it and likely take his irritation out on all involved. He'd find out eventually but for now it was easier to keep him in the dark. Besides, Zelenka was still pissed at McKay for sending him to that planet full of children.

Kavanagh had a small amount of hope that Stargate Command might actually listen, especially since it was now more than just him complaining. At the least, they should have some kind of inquiry. He'd be perfectly happy to stand up before a tribunal and detail Weir's incompetence for the official records. But he had the horrible feeling that all of this was going to be for nothing. He had to try and do everything in his power to hold Weir and the others accountable for their mistakes. But still there was that feeling of dread that nothing would ever get done.

Heightmeyer showed up about ten minutes later. Her eyes swept over the room and he knew she was noting the half-finished remains of his breakfast and the rumpled, unmade bed. Sleep had been difficult for him since the attack and he was too keyed up to enjoy his meal. Still, she said nothing about it as she sat in the only chair in the room and faced him squarely. He sat on the bed, leaning against the wall for support as he began.

"First of all, I want to apologize again for my attitude yesterday. I shouldn't have taken out my anger on you."

"It's all right. I know you've been under a lot of stress lately. Believe me, you're not the first patient to ever yell at me. It comes with the territory."

"I can imagine." He briefly wondered what her sessions with McKay were like and then didn't care. This meeting was about him, and no one else.

"So what did you want to talk about?"

"I wanted to explain things so maybe you'll understand where I'm coming from. I grew up as a military brat, always on the move. I went to ten different schools before I reached high school. Making friends was never easy and after a while I just gave up on it. It was easier to keep people at a distance than try to get to know someone I probably would have to leave behind in a year.

And it didn't help that I was too damn smart for my own good. I'd get stuck in the regular classes and be bored out of my mind. Or I'd get in the gifted classes in the middle of the school year and do better than the kids who'd been there from the beginning and they'd hate me for it."

"So you learned to keep to yourself? To keep others away from you?"

"I suppose you could look at it that way. I prefer to say that I realized the truth at a young age. People can't be trusted. Everyone has their own agenda and they manipulate those around them to get it. Oh, some do it without realizing it but it still happens. Some people do it sweetly, pretending to be your friend as long as it benefits them and some do it through intimidation. Some use looks or charms but it all boils down to one thing. The only person whose motivations I can trust is me."

"That doesn't sound like a very healthy way to go through. We all have to trust others at some point." Heightmeyer was interested in what he was saying. He could practically hear the gears turning in her head as all her psychological training tried to analyze his mindset.

"Oh, I trust people to do little things. Make trains run on time. Get coffee made. Keep everything clean. People can usually be trusted to do their jobs if it's part of their routine. I'm talking about personal interactions.

Take McKay, for example. He may be as smart as he believes but he intimidates everyone into thinking that he's the only one who can accomplish everything. All of the scientists who were accepted into the Stargate program are the best of the best. But to hear McKay talk, you'd think we were all clueless, bumbling idiots with no more grasp of science than a pre-schooler.

And then there's Sheppard. He acts like he's everyone's best friend, always with a quip, never taking anything seriously. But when it comes down to it, he's just manipulating people to like him. He's probably afraid of being alone or something whereas I couldn't care less."

"Who's the psychiatrist here?" Heightmeyer sounded amused but there was worry evident in the way she clasped her hands tightly and the slight strain in her voice. "Do you think that I'm manipulating you as well?"

"Constantly being betrayed and let down has made me good at noticing other people's personality traits. It helps me to avoid the ones I can't trust, usually. I don't think you're deliberately manipulating me but you have your own agenda, your own opinions too. There's no such thing as objectivity."

"So who is it that betrayed you in the past?"

"Where to begin? My father was disappointed that I was interested in science and not the military like my older brother. My mother always favored my sister over me or my brother. I remember when I was little; I heard her talking on the phone to one of her friends just after my sister was born. She said how glad she was that she finally had a daughter. She wanted someone to go shopping and watch sappy movies with. She left both of her sons raising to our father and his idea of how a man should be was dictated by military protocol."

He didn't bother going into detail. Heightmeyer didn't need to hear about the strict rules he and Jesse lived under while his sister was exempt. Infractions were punished with being forced to do 100 pushups, jogging until they were ready to collapse. In the worst cases, beatings and "solitary confinement" for a day in their spartan rooms with no meals were the norm. The only good thing he could say about it was that he learned the value of keeping in shape from all those forced exercises of his youth.

"Consequently, my sister grew up a spoiled, petty brat. My brother, Jesse, was the only one I got along with. He was the only one who stuck up for me." He could tell that Heightmeyer had caught on to the fact that he was referring to his brother in the past tense. "Jesse died three years ago in a car accident. He got broadsided by some idiot who ran a red light while blathering on their cell phone. I was working for Stargate Command then and my parents had no way to reach me. I didn't even get to go to his funeral."

"I'm so sorry." Heightmeyer gave him such a compassionate look that it almost made him crack. No one had ever been that sincere with him before. But he pushed the feeling away. He had to be strong and thinking about Jesse was only going to make him break down. "Is that why you volunteered for Atlantis? To get away from the memories?"

"No, I was going to apply before the accident. As I said before, this seemed like such a scientifically important endeavor and it would have been if someone competent were in charge. But Jesse's death made my decision easier. There's nobody who matters to me on Earth so why not go to some other planet where I might be able to make a difference?

My parents blamed me for not 'being there,' at the funeral. My father made it pretty clear that the wrong son had died. My mother and sister wouldn't even talk to me. I haven't seen any of them since."

"People sometimes act irrationally when they're grieving and often say things they don't mean. They probably regret the way they treated you. They're still your family and I'm sure in their own way, they still love you. Maybe you should give them another chance." He gave her a scathing look.

"You don't know my family. I doubt they've even given me a second thought since I left. It's pretty clear how they feel about me. I'm better off without them anyway."

"Perhaps. But you can't let these things weigh you down for the rest of your life. You have to move on. Maybe someday you can learn to forgive them even if they can't forgive you."

This wasn't working. She was just spouting more psychobabble at him. There were plenty of other betrayals he could tell her about over the years. All the friends who had been nice to him as long as he was helping them with their homework only to turn on him as soon as they no longer needed him. The girl he'd dated in high school who was always telling him how "sweet" and "polite" he was until the day he found out she'd been cheating on him for months. With one of the same jocks who treated him like dirt, no less. The list could go on and on but at some point it would just degenerate into whining and he would have just wasted his time.

"But you see that's the problem. Nothing's changed. I'm still treated like I'm incompetent and useless. The attack was just the latest betrayal in my life. Everyone before got away with it but this is too much. I can't let this go."

"So it's still revenge you want? Because to me you're saying that Dr. Weir symbolizes everyone who's ever wronged you and therefore, by punishing her, you'll be punishing them as well. Is that how you feel?"

"No. Look, to me, truth is the most important thing in the world. I don't want to pretend to be someone I'm not and I don't want anyone else to do the same. I can't hide behind smiles and pretty lies like everyone else but when I'm honest with someone, they get offended because they're not used to it."

"Being honest doesn't have to mean being rude. You can tell the truth without treating people with disdain."

"I've tried that. It doesn't work. Polite, straightforward, sarcastic, all get the same rejection. You know, when people would treat me with contempt, I'd tell myself they were just jealous because I'm smarter than them. It's always been that way. I'd ignore it or I'd react with sarcasm but it kept happening.

But what Weir did goes way beyond anything I've had to put up with before. She didn't just attack my credibility. She attacked everything I've ever believed in. Honesty didn't matter to her and it sure as hell didn't matter to Ronon. Her feelings told her I was the culprit so logic never entered into her reasoning. Technically, she proved my opinion of her right by what she did. But I know she's not fit to lead this expedition and I want Stargate Command to use some common sense and see that too. Otherwise I don't see how Atlantis can survive."

Dr. Heightmeyer was silent for a few moments and Kavanagh wondered if she truly understood. This wasn't just about revenge. It was about logic versus emotion and the rule of law. If he didn't try to get Stargate Command to do the right thing, then Weir would keep on thinking she could do whatever she wanted.

And if she did that, then Atlantis was as good as destroyed. Sooner or later, there would be a situation where emotional decisions wouldn't work and Weir would create a disaster with her wrong choice. It was a miracle she'd made it this far. Despite what some people believed, he did care about Atlantis and about the success of the mission.

"I need to tell you something. I'm not supposed to but I feel you have the right to know." Heightmeyer had that earnest expression on again that made him nervous, especially since he didn't know what she was talking about.

"Okay. What is it?"

"Dr. Weir is holding a conference call with Stargate Command in a few hours to discuss your situation and the message you sent to them. I'm supposed to be there along with Colonel Sheppard's team and Dr. Carson. I'm going to do my best to advocate on your behalf because I don't think its right for you to be left out of this discussion."

Kavanagh simply sat there, too stunned to even move. Weir had the nerve to hold a conference to discuss what should be done about the torture she'd ordered against him? And Stargate Command was going along with her and was discussing his private message with her but not him?

All hopes of having his position accredited seemed to burn away leaving him with the taste of ashes on his tongue. Everything he planned to do was a waste of time. He imagined them sitting around, discussing his situation as though he were just another problem to be dealt with, no different than the Wraith or the Genii. He could imagine them smirking and laughing about his futile attempts to hold Weir accountable.

"I should be there. I NEED to be there. What are they thinking?" He couldn't help the angry panic in his tone as he got to his feet and started to pace. "If I just show up at this damn thing, they can't keep me out. It's not right."

"Please, Jason, calm down. I don't think it's a good idea for you to be there in this state if at all. I want to help but you need to go about this in a proper way."

"I've tried the 'proper way.' I filed my complaints but clearly they're just going to sweep all of this under the rug. Stargate Command will probably decide to punish me for this and ship me off to some remote base like they did with McKay." His mind raced as he considered what to do about this. The thought of the looks on their faces when he barged right in was priceless but it would only make him look crazy. He had a better idea. "But you're right. I have to approach this from a different angle. I need to speak to Dr. Zelenka."

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Sorry again about how long this chapter took to write. I promise the next one won't take as long.


	6. Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own nothing. But if the people who do own Atlantis don't want Dr. Kavanagh, I'd be happy to take him off their hands...

I should note that I don't watch Stargate: SG-1 much and I'm not 100 percent sure who would deal with this situation but I've used Hammond before, so here he is again.

My muse is behaving herself. Especially after I threatened to take away the bucket if she acted up again;) (Cyber-cookies to anyone who gets that.)

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Dr. Elizabeth Weir looked far more composed than she actually felt. This meeting was important on so many levels and she was going to have to use all of her skills as a diplomat to get through it. The guilt of what she'd done to Dr. Kavanagh was still weighing at her.

She had been planning on inviting him to this meeting but Stargate Command had insisted otherwise. He'd be informed of this discussion after the fact. It felt wrong somehow but she went along with it, just like she'd gone along with the torture. Deep down, she knew it was because she was afraid of facing Kavanagh and seeing firsthand what she'd done to him. Let someone else deal with him.

Sheppard and his team arrived, followed closely by Carson. John and Carson both smiled at her and she was relieved to have some friendly faces present. Ronon looked bored and Teyla was still quiet and reserved after Charin's death. Rodney busied himself with getting the link to Earth up. It would take several minutes for the connection to be established. Now they just had to wait for Dr. Heightmeyer to arrive.

Dr. Heightmeyer walked in, five minutes late which was unusual. Right behind her was Dr. Zelenka looking somber and carrying a laptop and a manila folder. Weir was so startled she didn't know how to react. What was Zelenka doing here and how did he even know about this meeting? It hadn't been broadcast to everyone. Someone had to have told him.

"Zelenka, what are you doing here? Shouldn't you be off working on that scanning program I sent you? Or do you need me to hold your hand, because I'm kind of busy here." McKay looked annoyed but there was also a hint of confusion in his manner as he glared at his subordinate.

"Dr. Zelenka, this is a closed meeting. I'm afraid you can't be here right now." Weir tried to take control of the situation. Zelenka looked at all of them calmly and put his file down on the table, removing several sheets of paper from it and holding them aloft.

"I am here on behalf of Dr. Kavanagh. This meeting does concern him, yes? I have here a petition signed by forty-seven members of the Atlantis expedition, protesting the use of torture on Dr. Kavanagh."

Weir felt as though she'd been punched in the stomach. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. Why would Dr. Zelenka help Kavanagh? She didn't think they got along at all. Zelenka had had a little crush on her since they'd first met. She'd found it amusing and slightly flattering even though she wasn't interested in him that way. For him to do this, felt like a betrayal somehow. Everyone else looked similarly shocked.

"What?! No one informed me about any petition. I'm the head scientist here. Why wasn't I told about this?" McKay was clearly upset but Zelenka remained calm.

"You are involved with this situation and not objective enough. And the petition was not exclusive to the science department. Members of the support and medical staffs also signed it. I did not need your permission to start this."

"You weren't part of the original situation, doc. I don't see why you need to be here. If Kavanagh was so concerned, why didn't he come himself?" Sheppard was clearly annoyed but was restraining himself because it was Zelenka.

"Teyla was not part of the 'original situation' either and yet she is here. Dr. Kavanagh should have an advocate at a meeting that involves injuries done to him, should he not? He has asked me to be his advocate and I agreed. But if that is not acceptable, I can always include him directly." Zelenka tapped a quick sequence on the keyboard and a screen popped up that read, "Standby."

"What are you talking about?" McKay was still irritated. Everyone else just looked uncomfortable except Ronon who was his usual taciturn self. Weir felt nauseous. Everything seemed to be spiraling out of control.

"I have set up a direct link to Dr. Kavanagh's room. If you agree, I can patch it through and he can speak for himself. Otherwise, I will simply record the events of this meeting for him and let him decide how to proceed."

"Why are you doing this?" It was one of the least diplomatic things Weir had ever blurted out but she couldn't help herself. None of this made sense. Zelenka had never struck her as the sort who would defy authority like this for the sake of one obnoxious scientist. The Czech gave her an almost pitying look.

"There was period in my country where the police could arrest anyone on any pretense based on the flimsiest of evidence or no evidence at all. Torture was sometimes used to force confessions but it doesn't work. Why? Because someone who's being tortured badly enough will say anything to make the torture stop. It was a horrible, evil time and I was so glad when it was over. But I never thought to see it happen again here."

"That's not what happened! We had plenty of reasons to believe Kavanagh was guilty and Elizabeth only ordered the interrogation when there was no other choice. We were trying to save lives!" Sheppard always came to her defense and he did so now with an edge in his voice. But he was military and saw things differently than a civilian like Zelenka did.

"Even if Kavanagh was guilty, he could just as easily have given you a false code to stall for time which would have resorted in more lives lost. But he wasn't guilty. He had a great wrong done to him and now you are trying to sweep it under the rug. It is not right."

There was silence for a moment as everyone tried to decide what to do. Weir didn't know what to say. But deep down inside, she knew she had to face up to what she'd done, what they'd done. Sheppard and McKay had gone along with it and the Gou'ald inside Caldwell had been happy to goad them into going after the wrong suspect but ultimately it had been her decision.

"The link to Earth is up." Rodney supplied, breaking the air of tension. Weir almost felt relieved when she saw General Hammond's familiar face on the screen. Stargate Command had requested this meeting and they would be the one to decide what to do about Zelenka's actions. It would be out of her hands.

"What's going on here?" Hammond frowned at the sight of Zelenka standing there. Weir told him why Zelenka was there. She'd expected he would order the scientist to leave but instead, the general nodded. He looked tired and resigned and she sensed it was not good news even before he spoke.

"Dr. Kavanagh sent messages to a lot of different people in the Stargate program. Enough people have taken notice of your actions, Dr. Weir. I'm afraid that I.O.A. has begun an investigation of the incident."

"What?! There's nothing to investigate. It's a waste of time." Sheppard was looking more and more irate.

"General O'Neill would disagree as he's the one who authorized the investigation. I'm sorry but there's nothing I can do. I expect full cooperation from all of you. That's an order, Lt. Colonel Sheppard." John still had that angry look on his face but he gave a short, quick nod.

Weir was lost. It seemed as if people she thought she could rely on were turning against her-Dr. Zelenka, General O'Neill, Stargate Command themselves.

How could she hope to get through this if she had no one to rely on? No, she did have support because Sheppard and McKay were both on her side.

Glancing around the room, she tried to assess the mindset of the others. Carson seemed to be undecided and Teyla was an impartial observer. Ronon clearly didn't understand what all the fuss was about. He'd done something that needed to be done and it was over with. If it bothered him that he'd tortured an innocent man, he didn't show it. Heightmeyer had her professional, concerned face on and Zelenka looked calm and collected.

"How long do you think the investigation will take?" Weir fixated on the first thing she could think of in her emotionally-numbed state. There was always so much to do on Atlantis every day that she didn't like the thought of having to devote long periods of time to being grilled by the investigators. And if they expected her to leave Atlantis and return to Earth for the questioning, that would be even worse.

"I don't know. They're still putting the panel together. But I do know that the only way to stop this now is if Dr. Kavanagh calls it off himself."

"Yeah, like that would happen. The man's got a ego the size of a planet. He probably enjoys causing all these problems." Rodney ignored or chose not to see the raised eyebrows at him commenting on any one else's ego.

"That is an entirely unfair assessment. Dr. Kavanagh did not 'enjoy' any of the injuries inflicted on him. And I assure you he is not enjoying the misery he's suffered since then. And if his ego is the size of a planet, yours must encompass an entire solar system. And not one where you've blown up most of it either." Radek retorted, his eyes narrowing as he glared at Rodney. McKay's mouth dropped open and then he drew himself up to deliver a properly snarky comeback until Weir cut him off.

"That's enough. I don't need the two of you squabbling on top of every thing else." McKay glowered a bit but backed down. Weir took a deep breath to compose herself and then faced Hammond's image. "General, do you really think that the investigation would stop if Dr. Kavanagh asked them to or is it too late for that?"

"Yes, I think they would stop but I don't think that Dr. Kavanagh is inclined to ask them to do so."

"What are you thinking, Elizabeth? You think there's a way to make Kavanagh back down?" Sheppard asked and then grinned as an idea occurred to him. "Maybe we could send Ronon out to persuade him to drop it."

Zelenka swore in Czech then and gave Sheppard a far worse look than he'd given McKay. Heightmeyer winced and also gave the man an offended look.

"Not funny, John. No, there's only one thing to do. I have to go talk to Kavanagh myself."

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This chapter is a bit shorter than some of the others but it started out as half of the final chapter. When it ran too long, I cut it in half so the next chapter will be the last and will probably be a bit longer too. Thanks for the reviews so far.


	7. Chapter 7

Disclaimer: For the last time, I own nothing.

Dr. Jason Kavanagh sat in his room, his eyes fixed on the screen of his laptop and his fingers drumming impatiently on the arm of the chair. The meeting was supposed to start nearly an hour ago and Zelenka had yet to contact him. That could only mean that they hadn't wanted to include him. It wasn't entirely surprising but still, he felt irritated over it. Even digitally, they didn't want him to be involved in a discussion of his own torture.

He was glad that Dr. Zelenka had agreed to be an advocate for him at the meeting. Dr. Heightmeyer may have promised to do the same but she was too diplomatic and wouldn't go to bat for him the way Zelenka would. Heightmeyer would be too worried about hurting Weir's feelings to ever truly criticize her actions. Zelenka might appear to be quiet at times but if he could stand up to McKay when needed, then standing up to Weir should be no trouble at all.

There was a firm knock on the door and he got up to answer it. He fully expected it to be Dr. Zelenka with a report on the meeting. Instead, it was Dr. Weir standing there when he opened the door. He froze, not knowing what to do, and for a moment there was only silence as they stared at each other. Weir's gaze took note of his injuries, the bruises, bound wrist, and signs of fatigue. Her face never changed expression as she viewed the results of her decision.

"May I come in, Dr. Kavanagh? We need to talk."

"We have nothing to talk about." His voice was flat, betraying none of the anger he was feeling. How dare she think she could just show up and talk to him as though nothing had happened! What could she possibly say that would make this situation any better?

"I think we do. We need to resolve this like civilized adults." It was all he could do not to laugh.

"Or what? You'll send your thug to break my other wrist? Since when have you resolved anything in a civilized manner?" He couldn't help the sneer this time but she didn't rise to the bait.

"I understand that you're upset about what happened and I take full responsibility for my decision. But I want us to discuss what happened and I don't intend to leave until we do so." The sheer audacity of the woman! He glanced past her into the hallway to make sure there were no dreadlocked bodyguards lurking to keep him in line and then nodded abruptly.

"All right. Come in and talk but don't expect me to care about what you have to say."

He let her pass and then closed the door behind her. She sat down in the same chair Heightmeyer had been in mere hours ago. Dr. Weir sat stiffly, obviously tense and why shouldn't she be? It probably wasn't everyday that she had to deal with someone she'd screwed over so wrongly. He stifled a grin as he took a spot on the bed, leaning against the wall to hide how tired he really was.

"Stargate Command informed me that they've begun an investigation of the incident due to your messages. I've come to ask you to reconsider." He stared at her for a long moment and then threw back his head and laughed so hard he nearly fell off the bed. Judging from her annoyed expression, it wasn't the reaction she'd expected. He recovered himself but the sardonic grin remained on his face.

"So you finally have to face the consequences of your own actions and you want me to be the one to rescue you from that? Give me one good reason why I should even consider doing so after what you did to me."

"As I said, I take responsibility for my decision but that decision was made with the greater good in mind. I'm sorry that Ronon did what he did to you but I had the lives of everyone here to consider. You would have done the same thing in my place. You were the most logical culprit and I had to take the necessary steps to protect Atlantis."

"That's bull and you know it. You never would have sent Ronon in there if it were anyone else. If all the evidence had pointed to McKay or Sheppard, would you have ordered them tortured for the 'greater good?' I think not."

"I know Dr. McKay and Colenol Sheppard. They wouldn't be involved with the Trust. And yes, if they were implicated and I was desperate enough, I probably would have done the same thing."

"I don't believe you for a second. You have a grudge against me for not being one of your ass-kissers and you finally found a way to get back at me."

"I can't help what you believe but I'm telling you this wasn't personal. It was an act of desperation and maybe if you weren't so arrogant you'd see that."

He'd made her lose her cool and her angry expression actually made him feel a bit better. The calm, blank expression she'd been wearing, belied her true nature. She was too emotional and her bitter words just proved it to him. He decided to try another tactic.

"Sorry, I'm having a little trouble seeing clearly with this black eye and all. But tell me, why did you pick me to be a part of the Atlantis Expedition? I don't recall making any effort to be polite during the interview." She stared at him in confusion, unsure of why he was seemingly changing the topic. It was exactly what he wanted; to keep her off balance long enough to get her to admit that she was wrong.

"I...well, you had the appropriate scientific qualifications and were willing to go. Personality didn't play a role."

"I guess not or McKay would never have been accepted either."

"Your personality isn't the problem. It's your insistence on questioning everyone else's actions instead of worrying about your own. Dr. McKay knows when to listen to others. He's shown a willingness to put himself on the line for others. You've never done the same." She wasn't even trying to hide her irritation any more. Her whole posture and expression conveyed a deep sense of anger.

"News flash, Doctor Weir! The whole point of science is to question everything. If I think someone's wrong, I'm going to tell them that and they're free to do the same with me. This isn't playschool. We're not here to worry about people's feelings getting hurt. And excuse me for not being suicidal. Sometimes discretion is the better part of valor. McKay thinks he's so indispensable to this mission and yet, he's willing to risk his own life? That doesn't make any sense to me."

"So you'd be willing to let others die to save yourself, is that it? That's exactly why I suspected you were the one working with the Trust."

"If I had no other choice, I'd sacrifice myself. But there have been too many situations where members of this expedition made foolhardy decisions and jumped into things too quickly, putting everyone's life in danger. The incident with the stuck jumper was one of the first but it certainly wasn't the last."

"You mean the incident where you preferred to whine about your hurt feelings rather than help anyone?"

"Oh please, I wanted to help the people in the jumper as much as anyone. Just because I happened to be concerned about the safety risks didn't mean I didn't care. There were six people on that jumper and hundreds of people here. How can you say that those handful of people were any more important than the rest of us?

You accused me then of only caring about my own ass but it was everyone's asses I was concerned about, including yours. Any good scientist has to acknowledge the risks when they're working in an unknown environment and that's all I did. I didn't even say we shouldn't help them. I just pointed out the possibility of an explosion so we could maybe take steps to prevent it. I read the transcripts from the incident. McKay said the same thing I did and funny, you didn't call him a coward."

"He was the one on the trapped jumper, trying to fix the problem. You walked out of the meeting room to complain about your perceived treatment when you should have been trying to help them."

"Okay, I was wrong about that. I should have waited until later but I was pissed. You had no right to say what you did and if I had been on that trapped jumper and McKay was here and said the same thing, you never would have told him off."

"Well...I...That's not true." She looked flustered as she couldn't come up with an answer to his statement. He knew that it was because it was true.

Kavanagh had never understood why she had reacted the way she did to his simple statement about the possibility for an explosion. Had it been something in the tone of his voice or his facial expression? It couldn't have been the words alone as they'd been fairly innocuous. The only explanation was that she didn't like him and had chosen to interpret his warning through a filter of her own feelings.

"I'd say it is. There's also the matter of the team assignments. I applied to be part of the offworld teams along with other scientists but I was never assigned to one. Since the decision of who got in was made by yourself, Dr. McKay, and Sheppard, I have to assume it was due to your dislike of me because, as you said, I had all the necessary qualifications."

"That's not true. We had more scientists apply than we had teams for. Not everyone made it."

"That's the excuse that was made but I checked. Of those of us who applied, only three others besides myself were turned down and of those that were accepted, some had less qualifications than I did. Plus, I happened to overhear McKay complaining to Dr. Zelenka that not enough experienced scientists had applied."

"It wasn't just about qualifications. We had to make sure the scientists would fit in with the team. They had to be willing to obey the orders of the soldiers who were with them and you'd shown that you were unwilling to do so. And no one was entirely experienced to deal with all of the new worlds we've encountered not to mention the Wraith."

"What ever gave you the idea that I couldn't obey orders if I had to? Yes, I'm not fond of the military but I'm perfectly capable of doing what I'm told when it's a safety issue. Again, I say that your judgment was based solely on the jumper incident and your judgment of me in that situation was wrong.

Then there was all the crap assignments I was given after that incident. My helpers were assigned to others and I was given remedial tasks that should have been done by the lab techs. I have a doctorate in chemical engineering (A/N) and I was sent to monitor power levels and check gauges. Are you going to tell me that wasn't personal?"

"What do you want me to say? I could apologize a hundred times for every perceived slight and you still wouldn't be satisfied." She threw up her hands in a helpless gesture. So much for diplomacy.

"You want to know what I want? For starters, I want a public apology, one the whole city can hear. And not just from you either, but Sheppard and McKay as well. I don't expect one from Ronon. He obviously doesn't care one bit but the three of you should have known better. You should have been smarter than that." To his surprise, she didn't outright reject the idea which told him how much leverage he actually had.

"I can't order Colonel Sheppard or Dr. McKay to apologize for something they aren't responsible for. I told you, that I take full responsibility for my actions but I still believe that I made the best choice I could under the circumstances."

"I thought you were the 'acting governor' of a sovereign state? And the 'best choice?'" He'd stopped grinning now and leaned forward towards her. "Do you know that by the time Sheppard came in, I was considering confessing to just about anything I could think of in order to get that barbarian to stop? I thought he was going to kill me. I thought I was going to die in that room because of your mistake. And I think if I had or if the damage was more permanent, you'd still be spouting the same bullshit about how you had no other choice." Something that looked a lot like guilt flickered across her face and then was gone.

"You want a city-wide apology? Fine, I'll do that but just me. What else?"

"I'd ask you to promise not to ever do something like this again, but we both know that would be a waste of my time. So the other main thing I want is for Stargate Command to review your actions. That means, I want IOA to look into the situation here and I'm willing to accept their decision after that, even if they merely reprimand you."

"What good would that do? Would it make you feel better if someone sided with you? It's a waste of time for Stargate Command to investigate the incident. I made a choice, right or wrong, and nothing I or they do can take back what was done to you."

"You don't understand. I don't want them to just look into the torture; I want them to review your whole command here. Every decision you've made, every time you stepped outside of the laws we're all supposed to be following. I want them to decide whether you're fit for command here because I don't think you are for a second. If they look into your record and still allow you to stay as expedition head, I'll tolerate it but I want them to actually look and not just blow off everything you've done."

"What! Why should I agree to that? I've had to make some hard decisions since our arrival and maybe some of them could have gone differently but we're in an unknown situation here. Even without the presence of the Wraith, there would probably be incidents where I had to bend the rules or even break them. Before the arrival of the _Daedalus_, we were completely cut off from Earth and it was my responsibility to keep everyone alive in whatever way I could. Maybe if you weren't so concerned about always following the rules, you'd understand that circumstances sometimes demand flexibility."

"Flexibility is no excuse for ignoring the rules for some but not others. You let your favorites get away with just about anything while the rest of us have to keep our opinions to ourselves or risk possible torture for you to get your way. Yet again, I say that you're too damn emotional to head this expedition. If I had accidentally blown up most of a solar system like McKay did, would I have just gotten a reprimand or would I have been sent packing? We all know the answer to that."

"Dr. McKay was reprimanded for that particular mistake but his own guilt was the biggest punishment of all. It would have been futile to do anything more. And as head of the science department, he's held to an even higher standard than the other scientists. Stop trying to make this about other people's problems because you can't deal with your own."

"And I suppose I'm supposed to let you off because you feel some vague semblance of guilt for torturing me? I haven't seen any evidence that McKay is held to a higher standard. I think the opposite is more true. And this whole argument leads back to my original point that you treat my problems differently than others. Maybe if I had the damn ATA gene, I would have been treated better but it's pointless to speculate about that now."

"Fine. I'll let IOA investigate if that's what you want. I believe I can justify my past decisions so I believe IO will find no reason to ask for my resignation. It will simply be a waste of time on everybody's part. Is that everything?"

"There's one more thing. I want you to tell me what you really think of me. Off the record, no diplomatic phrasing, just the truth here and now."

For a long moment there was silence between them. Kavanagh could feel the beginning twinges of a headache but he kept the same smile plastered to his face. All the stress and pain would be over soon and it would help if Weir would just admit to her prejudice and end this.

He didn't think she would really do it. She'd decline or just put it more politely than she should. She probably thought he was recording all of this for blackmail later but he was doing no such thing. He really wanted all of this to come to an end. He wanted to board the _Daedalus_ tomorrow and never have to think of this place again. Weir sighed deeply and then nodded once.

"All right. I think you're an arrogant ass and if it was up to me, you would never have been on this expedition. I didn't like your condescending, smug attitude during the initial interviews and I like it even less now. I planned on turning down your application but I was overruled by the rest of the interview board.

I couldn't give them a valid reason not to include you so you were allowed to come along but I knew you'd be nothing but trouble. The only reason you made it was that we needed all the personnel we could get and Stargate Command was as eager to get rid of you as you were of it. So yes, I treated you differently because just about everyone else had to fight for a spot and you were just handed one to get you out of the way. Are you happy now?"

"Yes, I am. I'd rather hear the truth than meaningless platitudes. And now that that's done, how about you get on the speaker and make that apology?"

She gave a quick, angry nod and then turned and walked out without another word. As soon as the door closed behind her, Kavanagh stumbled to his feet and grabbed the aspirin from the bathroom shelf. His head was throbbing mercilessly now and his victory seemed hollow somehow.

Weir didn't get it. She'd do what he asked but he didn't really believe she was repentant. The next time there was a crisis and any of the personnel were suspected, she'd resort to the same thing if she had to. She'd justify it in her mind. The scientist or soldier or janitor would have done or said something she didn't like and she'd overlook the true perpetrator. The expedition would end in disaster with Weir in charge and he would be vindicated in the worst way. It wouldn't make him feel any better.

The intercom came on as he lay back on the bed with the lights dim to minimize the pain. He lay in the dark, with his eyes closed, listening to Weir's apology.

"Attention, to all Atlantis residents. This is Dr. Elizabeth Weir speaking. I want to take this time to make a personal apology to Dr. Jason Kavanagh for my actions against him last week. I wrongly suspected him of acts of sabotage and ordered his torture in order to extract a confession from him. This was a mistake on my part and one I don't intend to repeat. I'm sorry for what I did and hope that Dr. Kavanagh will forgive my actions towards him. That is all."

Kavanagh turned her words over and over in his head as the pain and tension slowly started to ease away. It wasn't enough, would never be enough, but it was a start. He was so tired of this place. It would be nice to make a fresh start somewhere else. Despite his persistent insomnia, fatigue soon over came him and he drifted off to sleep away his last day on Atlantis.

The next morning, Dr. Heightmeyer came to escort him to the _Daedelus_. He was calm after the tension-filled confrontation with Weir yesterday. His headache was gone and he felt as though a great weight had been lifted off his shoulders. Heightmeyer could tell something was different about him.

She seemed cautiously optimistic at his demeanor and prattled on about how Weir's apology had been a catharsis for him but how he should still consider therapy to deal with any lingering resentment over his rough treatment. He thanked her as politely as possible but her words had already slid through his mind and vanished into nothingness.

They passed a few people in the corridors and he was aware that some of them still gave him hostile looks. By all means, let them keep blaming him for Weir's predicament while turning a blind eye to her faults. He'd be gone within an hour and they'd have to endure their leader's problems themselves.

At the south dock, the _Daedelus_'s main hatch lay open as crew members bustled in and out with parts and supplies. Heightmeyer took her leave of him, claiming a previous appointment and he was left to board among the hurried activity. The ocean beyond the dock was ruffled by a steady breeze that blew an errant strand of hair into his eyes. He pushed it aside impatiently as he stood there and took in the scene before him. The salt air smelled subtly different than Earth, a last reminder that he was on a completely different planet. What an exciting and productive career he could have had here if things had worked out differently.

He walked towards the ship and was surprised to see Dr.'s Beckett, McKay, and Zelenka standing there. When they saw him, they came forward and he mentally steeled himself to deal with them. His calm was edging into anxiety as he came closer to his departure time. Talking to them would only slow him down but, as with Heightmeyer, he was as polite as possible.

"How are you feeling, lad? I just wanted to check on you before you left. You look a bit pale."

"I'm fine, thank you Dr. Beckett. You've been a big help here and I appreciate it."

"Well, take care of yourself lad and good luck." He shook Carson's hand and the physician moved off a bit to let the other two have their say. Zelenka smiled at him.

"I hope you will have better luck in your next assignment, Dr. Kavanagh. I still sent the petition through to Stargate Command. I hope that is okay?"

"Yes, thank you. I hope they'll actually read it. I appreciate your support. If you'll accept my advice, you should go back to Earth. Your talents are wasted here."

"I would disagree but I understand your position. I am very much at home here despite any recent problems. But good luck to you, doctor." They too shook hands and the he turned to face McKay. The head scientist looked uncomfortable. Kavanagh wasn't sure what McKay was even doing here. Was he going to follow Weir's example and apologize?

"You know Kavanagh, you're such a damn arrogant ass, it's a wonder you ever managed to make it this far in life without someone taking you down a peg. With that said..." McKay grimaced and looked even more uncomfortable than before. "I'm sorry Elizabeth had to resort to such drastic measures. I wasn't exactly supportive of the whole idea but she had her reasons and..."

"Save it, McKay. I don't want to hear any more justification of Weir's actions. Don't pretend like you're sorry to see me go. We both know it's a lie."

"You're right. I'm not sorry you're leaving. You're more trouble than you're worth but I'll have you know, I sent a message to Stargate Command recommending that they find a position for you. You can't compare to my genius of course, but you could be a valuable asset in the right circumstances. Provided you learn how to keep your mouth shut more often." Kavanagh resisted the urge to make a remark about pots and black kettles and just nodded.

"I'll keep that in mind." They shook hands hesitantly and then there was an awkward silence before McKay muttered something about pressing duties to attend to and left, trailed by the other two. Kavanagh was finally, blessedly alone as he boarded the ship and headed for his room.

He got a few stares from crew members as he passed. They all knew what had happened to him but there was much less hostility towards him than from the Atlantis crew. To the crew of the _Daedelus_, he was just another passenger, not a nuisance to be endured.

He was just outside of his room when someone called his name. Resisting the urge to simply ignore it, walk through the door, and shut it behind him, he turned to face the new person. Colonel Caldwell looked as uncertain as McKay had but at least he wasn't to blame for his actions.

"Dr. Kavanagh, I just wanted to welcome you on board. How are you feeling?"

"Fine but I'll be better once we leave."

"I feel as though I should apologize. It was the Goa'uld inside me that supported your torture but I still feel some sense of responsibility."

"You're the only one in that room when the decision was made that doesn't deserve the blame. It wasn't you, it was the damn parasite and in the end it was Weir's decision."

"Dr. Heightmeyer told me that it wasn't my fault but that doesn't stop the guilt. The Goa'uld was gloating in my head when Weir insisted you were guilty. It was thrilled that there was a perfect scapegoat for them to focus on. It drew attention away from us...him...it. If you hadn't been there, they would have been forced to look more closely at other suspects."

The thought of the parasitic alien taking pleasure in his pain made him feel ill but he wasn't a therapist or a priest. He didn't need or want to hear Caldwell's confession or absolve him of his guilt. The man clearly still had issues with the Goa'uld's actions while in his body but Kavanagh wasn't the one he should be talking to about this. The scientist had his own problems to deal with.

"Colonel, I appreciate the sentiment but trust me. Weir would never have pegged you as a suspect if it wasn't for those codes they found. She trusts certain people so much that their actions go unscrutinized. If it wasn't me, she would have found someone else to suspect but it still wouldn't have been you. Now if you'll excuse me, I really need to lie down."

"Of course, don't let me keep you. If you need anything during the trip just ask." Caldwell left in a hurry and Kavanagh finally made it into his room. He collapsed on the bed and simply closed his eyes. The ship would be leaving in less than an hour. Listening to all these farewells had sapped his calm and now he felt worn out again and wanted nothing but peace and quiet.

Unlike the voyage here, he hadn't been assigned a station or any duties. Beckett's orders were for him to take it easy. He lay back and relaxed until he felt the ship powering up around him and heard the faint sounds of the engines catching.

He got up and went to a small port-side window set into the wall. As the _Daedelus _headed towards the upper atmosphere, he watched the steadily dwindling view of Atlantis. The city's towers gleamed in the sun and then as they moved farther away, the city became just a silvery dot in the blue ocean. Finally it was lost to his sight but he stayed at the window until the only thing to be seen outside was stars in the blackness. It was over. Atlantis was gone.

Epilogue...Six months later.

The work at Area 51 was just what he'd been looking for, interesting and challenging, and something that actually fit his qualifications. Kavanagh actually seemed to fit in here and while not every one cared for him, he didn't stand out among the other scientists and no one singled him out. The military presence was ubiquitous but they didn't interfere with the scientists much and he could tolerate what interference there was.

Kavanagh walked into his room after a long Friday and checked his e-mail. Most of it was unimportant but he paused when he saw an official message from Stargate Command. He had deliberately avoided any news of Atlantis other than knowing it was still there but he knew they had conducted an investigation of Weir, just as he'd asked. He clicked on it with a sense of resigned trepidation.

"To Dr. Jason Kavanagh,

We are writing to inform you of the results of IOA's investigation of the actions of Dr. Elizabeth Weir. IO has found several areas of concern. However, we have concluded that none of them are serious enough to warrant Dr. Weir's removal from Atlantis..."

He finished reading it and then a click of the button deleted it. Just as he'd thought, they weren't going to fire Weir. There would be several reprimands placed in her permanent file over some of her actions but that was it. He supposed he should feel angry or upset and some small part of him was but everything that had happened on Atlantis seemed like ancient history now. The physical scars were gone and he hadn't had a headache in two months. As for mental scars, well they were slowly healing as well. It would just take more time.

The last message was from Dr. Rogers, his lab partner inviting him to join some of the scientists at one of the local bars for a few drinks. He replied with an affirmative, shut the laptop off, and went to live his new life to the fullest.

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Well, there it is. It's finally done and I hope I pulled it off. As much as I wanted to have Weir fired, I was trying to write it realistically and SG Command let off her off the hook before so I had to believe they'd do the same in this situation. But Kav had to have his happy ending. There are too many ridiculous stories about how Kav is evil but he's really just a human being with his own problems and quirks and that's what I wanted to portray here. He really is just like McKay was when he first appeared on SG-1. Maybe with the proper background, he could be as interesting as Rodney.

A/N: Kavanagh's exact area of expertise was never revealed on the show but I chose Chemical Engineering because it's an area that would have been useful in the situation in "Thirty-Eight Minutes."


End file.
